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“Charlotte!”

The two ladies returned to Lucas Lodge arm in arm, giggling at the sudden craziness of Hertfordshire.

Chapter 9

Fitzwilliam Darcy once again found himself retreating to the edge of the gathering. How had he ended up in the situation? A casual, yet genuine, agreement to assist an old friend made six months earlier had turned into this ordeal. Bingley was in no way responsible for the situation with his sister, Georgiana. It was the timing that was the issue. His sister had shown little sign of improvement in her demeanour over the summer and his aunt had all but insisted that he fulfil this obligation. It was her hope that his sister would start to recover without him hovering over her. His absence was to be for two months, he could only add his hopes and prayers to those of his aunt.

So Darcy had been out of sorts before he even left London. But now he was stuck somewhere between the third and fourth circles of Hell, faced as he was with daily reminders of Hurst’s gluttony and Miss Bingley’s greed. As he thought about the journey to Netherfield Park he had to shake his head and acknowledge his own stupidity as well. What had he been thinking when agreeing to transport Bingley’s two sisters and brother in law? Clearly, he had not been thinking at all.

But the journey had set the tone. They had only been in Hertfordshire for 10 days, they had not even managed to get to a fortnight, and it felt like months. Mentally retreating into himself further Darcy wondered how he would survive the nine week visit. That he was already counting down to his escape was a sign, and not a good one. Darcy also knew he was advancing to a fork in the road, and seemed unable to halt that progress.

Family was of the utmost importance to Darcy, he did not need to consider that for even a moment. With both his parents dead, the guardianship of his 15 year old sister was the most important thing in Darcy’s world. They were the only immediate family that each other had. There were aunts and uncles and cousins, but Darcy’s family centred on Georgiana. Which was why he was so tormented at his failure to protect her adequately. Bingley’s parents were also dead, leaving him and his two sisters. One had already married a gentleman, even if only a minor one. And they travelled with Bingley and the other unmarried sister, inflicting Hurst’s gluttony on the company. But whereas Georgiana Darcy was a gentle soul, quiet and studious, Caroline Bingley was, well first of all she was not gentle, quiet or studious.

Darcy mentally sighed, there was no point in thinking about Caroline Bingley. He was exposed to her on a daily basis at present, and it was a trial. Having already thought of Dante his mood lightened as he now turned to Peisander; Caroline Bingley, the 13th labour of Heracles. Given the importance of his own sister in his life Darcy was never going to make Bingley choose between his own sister and Darcy. But Darcy’s patience with her was rapidly running out. He started to list her faults but he stopped himself. What was the point? He was a guest of Bingley and was scheduled to be so until the end of November. If he stayed the full nine weeks it would be in the constant company of Caroline Bingley. Bah!

He stopped his mental introspection and turned his attention back to the present company. It was small soiree at the home of Sir William Lucas, the only knight in the area. He was a ruddy faced gent with a booming voice and the tendency to describe everything as ‘capital’. He looked around the room, there were perhaps 22 to 25 people present, and he immediately spotted his own party. Hurst was at the refreshment table, no surprise there. The Bingley sisters were standing together, whispering rudely and tittering at their own inane drivel. And Bingley was standing talking to the prettiest woman in the room, the tall blonde oldest Bennet sister. Darcy looked at Miss Jane Bennet and could see that she was exactly Bingley’s type, when back at Netherfield he was constantly talking about his angel.

A sudden loud shriek caught his attention and he turned his gaze. Ah, just as 10 days previously at the Assembly, here was the evidence that Miss Jane Bennet did not come without embarrassing relations. In this instance it was the mother, but it could have been one of the two youngest sisters. The three of them appeared to be in a contest to see who could make the biggest scene. Turning away from the spectacle Mrs. Bennet was making he scanned the room. He knew through Miss Bingley that were five sisters but he did not know which of the women in the room were the other two. A quick mental elimination of the various ladies he had been introduced to left him with only two. The assumption being these were the missing Bennet sisters.

A frog in his throat meant he needed to get a glass from the refreshment table. Leaving the safety of his corner resulted in capture by the enemy, well Sir William at least. This gentleman preceded to recount his knighthood ceremony at St. James’s Palace, and given his fluency Darcy surmised this was not an infrequent event. While they talked an area of the room was cleared for dancing and someone started an air of the piano. Darcy hoped that Miss Bingley would not want to dance in such an environment.

“Ah Colonel Forster, allow me to introduce a guest of Mr. Bingley’s at Netherfield Park, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy, this is Colonel Forster, the officer in charge of a Militia Regiment that is to be quartered in the area this autumn and winter.”

Darcy was looking forward to discussing the current situation on the Peninsula, anything was preferable to Sir William’s anecdotes, or worse in having to dance. But before he and Forster had done anything but bow to each other the Colonel was called away by his wife. Darcy tried to think of something, anything to break free from Sir William. Then his worst nightmare appeared in the shape of a young woman, one of the unknown Bennet sisters.

“Ah, Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me.”

The avuncular knight got no further.

“Excuse me Sir William. I have not been introduced to this gentleman and I will allow nothing.”

With the merest smidge of a curtsey she was gone, not once having looked at him. Darcy was taken aback, a combination of mortified and outraged at his treatment.

“You were not introduced to Miss Elizabeth Bennet at the Assembly? I distinctly remember them greeting you but…”

Sir William trailed off, and Darcy winced internally. He had not been introduced to the Bennets because he had walked away during the introduction. He had been properly introduced to the mother, oldest and two youngest sisters later over the course of the evening. None of the blame could be deflected, not to any of the locals, not to the other members of his own party, this was on him.

“No Sir William, the introduction was not complete. May I ask of your assistance, perhaps later, in the evening to affect an introduction?”

Sir William immediately returned to his ebullient best.

“Of course Mr. Darcy, it would be my pleasure. Capital, capital.”

They parted allowing Darcy to retreat and lick his entirely self-inflicted wounds. He was trying to process the whole incident. Nobody ever refused to dance with him. Technically he had not been turned down for a dance, but rather the young lady had not even acknowledged him. That was so much better! Did she not know who he was? He was the grandson of an Earl, the nephew of the current Earl.

Darcy stopped. He needed to be outside, alone, on the back of his favourite stallion letting the wind and the cold and the exercise blow his mental cobwebs away. If for no other reason than he was starting to think like his Aunt Catherine. That prompted another mental shudder, at least the third of the evening. He thought back to the two sentences Sir William had managed to utter, ‘Miss Eliza’. So this young lady was the second of the sisters, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Getting himself back under regulation he considered the short meeting. The Darcy name was known throughout society, but did that knowledge extend to this country backwater? He had been full of his own consequence, he had even said so to Bingley. His calm reflections came to a screeching halt and he sought out the last sister, Miss Mary. She was at the piano providing the music for the dancers and he could see her face. It was the same lady that he spoke about to Bingley. Had she heard? There would be no introduction this evening, he needed to talk to Bingley.

Right at that moment he cursed his April agreement to assist Bingley.

He was stuck here for at least another hour. Where was that Colonel? He could have a discussion with him, stay focused on the War and avoid thinking about Hertfordshire. He edged round the wall only to realise that the one person he wished to avoid, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, was talking to the Colonel. And, he was startled to learn, with confidence and knowledge of the situation in Spain and Portugal.

“So you were with General Moore on the retreat to A Coruna?”

“I had that privilege.”

“Do you mind my asking about your recollections of the battle? I know it must be difficult given that so many fell.”